Walk on Water
by Angelight
Summary: [AU:HU:belated Vday fic! :D] For it is the intrigue of love that drives us forever forward, giving us our reason for being. Love gives us life, and for the blessed few, life gives them love


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Disclaimer: Don't own Gundam Wing/Sailor Moon.

For anybody that will be offended by certain religious connotations of this fic, please don't be! I'm not trying to say anything negative about religion. :D

Bunches and bunches of thanks and roses to **Kiwi-chan** who has helped me with semi-research for this fic … numbers, names, ranks, etc. :D 

Enjoy~! [even if it's late … xD] 

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Walk on Water: A Hiiro/Usagi V-day Fic

[angelight ~ me. :D]

…………………

Usagi would always remember the day she saw him fall.

The night before, newscasters on every station had promised a meteor shower sometime in the coming week. They never gave a time and hardly managed to narrow the date down to between February 11th and 12th. In fact, the only thing they seemed remotely certain about was that it was the shower of the millennium, shooting stars totaling to, according to estimates, 133,306,668. 

Only through Ami's incessant allegation that this would the moment of a lifetime did their group of five find themselves climbing up to the roof of the Sendai Hill Temple, Makoto clutching the bag of cookies to her chest as she ascended, shooting Usagi apprehensive looks as if wondering how difficult it would be to fend her off if she ever became particularly hungry during the shower. 

"Let's get this party started!" Minako cheered, clapping her hands eagerly. Makoto sighed and handed the cookies to Ami, both because she was sitting in the middle and because she was the least likely to gulp it down, bag and all, within seconds. 

"They said that the shower will be any time from late this evening to early tomorrow morning and might last up to three or four hours," Ami summarized, jerking her hand back quickly as both Minako and Usagi lunged for the food.

Usagi shrugged and took a huge bite, shooting a smug smile at Minako before the bag was snatched out of her hand. "We've already killed enough time with movies and it's already nearing midnight. Surely it'll come soon."

Ami frowned at her. "_Surely_ you didn't come here just to eat and watch pointless films, Usagi. You will never be able to see this again unless scientists figure out a way to let humans live beyond a thousand years old." 

Rei waved her hand dismissively. "Just leave her. You can't instill an intense love for natural phenomena in a person in just an evening."

"I resent that, Rei," Usagi muttered. 

"I personally think shooting stars are very romantic," Makoto sighed, gazing into the midnight sky and twirling her hair casually. "They've symbolized all sorts of things in the past – death, love, regret, hope-"

"It's starting, it's starting!" Minako looked ready to jump up and off the roof. 

At first nothing more than a small pinprick in the distance sliced a thin line of silver into the sky but even as mere seconds flashed by, they came more and more quickly, bolder and engraving wider bands of light. The moonless sky was alit with the playful plummets of dozens at once, each trailing light and leaving a beautiful and glorious legacy after it. 

__

Come.

Usagi started and glanced around at her friends. Everybody else was immersed and entranced by the heavenly show of lights.

__

Save me.

She jumped, her heart rising to her throat and thumping rhythmically, its tempo rising. Before she knew it, she had leapt to the ground below the roof, landing safely without her usual clumsiness. 

"Usagi! What do you think you're doing?" Rei's frantic cry echoed faintly but that was all. She was already frenziedly running toward some unknown destination, tears in her eyes, mind only focused on the tired and desolate voice in her mind.

…………………

She only slowed once she reached unknown territory. Even the stitch in her side and the painful wheezing of lungs unaccustomed to enduring sprinting for such a long time hadn't stopped her. Her long, sunny hair was slipping out of its comical style of buns and streamers but she didn't take notice.

It was completely dark around her save for the meteors falling, leaving fiery trails of overwhelming light. It was completely silent save for her labored breathing. 

And then she saw it.

Wings thrashing, straining, multiple figures in flowing robes of crimson, the trail of light dyed scarlet. 

__

Catch me.

Usagi froze but shook her head quickly and ran toward the falling stars. Falling, yes, for they were not shooting and certainly were not soaring. They were flailing, plunging to the stern, cold ground. 

And without giving further thought to whether or not she was physically capable of catching one, she reached. 

And tumbled uncoordinatedly to the ground, arms tightly wrapped around a body with powerful wings that beat tirelessly but in vain. They came to a stop, her hand dragging painfully across gravel. She didn't bother stopping the tears that came to her eyes and kept her gaze focused on the figure leaning heavily on her, knowing that the sight of blood would make her nauseous. Her deafening breathing filled the air. His wings never stopped beating. 

Only then did she notice the movement of other wings around her, lashing out wildly trying to return their owners to the air. Only then did she notice the disconcerting thumps each body made as it impacted the ground. 

And then there was silence. Again, the pure, beauteous silence followed by the gentlest caress of water on her cheeks. It began to rain. 

And what glorious rain. The drops glimmered gold like drops of molten light.

In its pouring rhythm, the body in her arms stirred. She tried to lay him down gently on the ground but stopped as he groaned and hissed. He pushed her back and attempted to stand, the feathers of his wings dismally wet. His right leg buckled and he came tumbling down. But he raised his head slowly and his eyes met hers. 

"How long has it been?" His voice came out halfway between a snarl and a whisper, soft but faintly grating to the ears. She blinked at him dumbly, trying to catch her breath. "How long has it been since the rain started?"

"A-about half a minute."

"Merde," he muttered and attempted again to stand. The word wasn't familiar to her but she vaguely remembered that once in French, when she wasn't busy napping or passing notes to Minako, the teacher had laughingly warned them about adding a "d" to "mer". _Because then you would say something quite unpleasant, _she had joked. [1]

"Your leg's hurt. There's no way you can stand," she stuttered and reached for him. He shoved her back and glanced wildly around him, eyes panicked. She followed his gaze and gasped.

The bodies around them were dissolving into the ground. Usagi shuddered and turned back to the man in front of her. 

His wings were melting off his back, noiselessly falling to the ground in black drops. Before a minute had chance to pass by, they were gone completely, leaving him, crimson robe soaking and hanging desolately, as the rain let up and the sky returned to its moonless splendor. 

He stared at her with horror and hatred. 

"What have you done?" he whispered. 

Her lower lip trembled as she stared up at him, glorious even without his wings. 

He slowly brought a hand up to where his chest was and held it there, eyes disbelieving. "It's beating again." The hand flew to his nose. "I'm bre-" But his body finally decided it had had enough and he fell backwards. Usagi barely had time to catch him by the shoulders and protect his head. 

…………………

Her mother didn't question her authority as Usagi half limped into the room, not due to personal injury but because of the man she was attempting to carry. In fact, Tsukino Ikuko did nothing more than pale and hurry to the master bedroom for a few blankets. And though Tsukino Kenji's eyes widened to the size of saucers at the sight of his precious daughter coming into such vulgar contact with a person of the opposite sex, albeit an unconscious one, he did nothing more than utter a short "hrmph" and turned away, burying his head in his newspaper. 

A small groan scratched its way out of his throat as Usagi laid him onto the couch, gratefully accepting the blankets her mother offered and draping them over him. Her legs wobbled and she sat with a small sigh, refusing to budge, half out of exhaustion and half out of concern and determination.

"Usagi," Ikuko started softly, "I really don't know what happened to this young man but whatever the circumstances, I believe you did the right…" She trailed off at the sight of Usagi's closed eyes and serene breathing, smiling at the contradictory picture the two created together. 

With her golden hair splayed around her and her cool, rosy cheeks, Usagi had laid her head gently beside his form like a faithful angel guarding over a demon with dark, dark hair and perfectly pale skin. The two ideas seemed to clash – chastity and temptation, fidelity and perfidy, heaven and hell.

…………………

He stirred and winced at the ache in his arm when he moved to bring it to his head. Squinting, his eyes opened slowly and glanced around him. An unfamiliar ceiling, a strange smell, and- He jumped and forced himself up to a sitting position. There was a girl beside him, still not quite awake but already stretching her arms out. He had almost mistaken her for a feminine version of Michael. 

Michael. That brought back horrible memories. How long has it been since he'd seen Michael, shining so gloriously beside the diadem of Him?

He caught her smiling at him but behind that smile he could see doubts and some fear.

"Are you okay?"

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, clear blue eyes reopening and glaring. "What did you do?"

She looked puzzled. "What do you mean 'what did you do'?"

He shot her a strange look. "I go by Sariel." [2] He frowned at her still questioning look. "You can call me Hiiro if you like."

"Hiiro." She smiled as if the name tasted sweet. 

"You do not known who Sariel is?"

Usagi bit her lip. It was all the answer he needed.

"What are you learning in schools now? Last time I'd checked, they were still focusing heavily on the Old Testament." She blinked, and he shot her a look of exasperation. "Do you know Enoch I?"

Usagi laughed sheepishly. "I'm really not that well versed in the Bible."

He scowled, and her smile slowly withered away. "Ever heard of Satan?" Hiiro smiled, though not kindly, at the sudden gravity of her expression. "When Satan fell, one-third of heaven's angels had been allied with him. 133,306,668 of them fell as shooting stars to hell." 

Usagi shuddered as he shot her a small smirk but couldn't spare enough thought to urge her body to move away. "S-so … you're a demon?"

"A fallen angel is a prettier term."

"But then … why were you falling today?"

Hiiro glowered at her. "It's the anniversary of the first fall. This happens once in a millennium. It's … a reenactment."

"You were supposed to melt into the ground then," she concluded softly.

"By the light of God," he replied though she couldn't tell if the answer was supposed to be sarcastic or sorrowful.

"But I managed to keep you on earth?"

He shot her an annoyed glare. "Don't say that as if you've done me a favor. I'd much rather be in hell at the moment." His hand involuntarily went to his chest, again feeling the strong heartbeat. 

There was a pause before Usagi shifted. "It doesn't matter. I have to help you until you get better."

"You won't like me," he said, almost smugly. "Fallen angels aren't particularly charming."

Usagi shook her head emphatically. "It doesn't matter. I've already promised myself to help you."

She shifted uncomfortably under his pellucid sapphire eyes and frowned. "What?"

"You remind me of Michael," he replied slowly, blue eyes still trained on her and calculating as if tearing her apart and analyzing each limb. 

"Michael?"

Hiiro shook his head defeatedly. "You really know nothing about the scripture, do you?"

His perpetual frown lightened a bit at the sight of her faintly resentful expression. Michael. She was almost exactly like him. That realization in itself struck a despondent note to the rhythm of his again beating heart.

…………………

From her position behind the kitchen counter, she could see past the windowpane screening the balcony through which the purest rays of a sunset were streaming. He – Hiiro – had been standing there all day, ever since he woke up a bit after dawn. She, with her own social commitments, had only bothered to glance at him a few times, to make sure he was okay and not doubling over like when his heart first started beating again. 

The slight breeze stirred his bangs and the white dress shirt she had sneaked out of her dad's closet. Every once in awhile he would pull his shoulders back and after a pause of tension, let go slowly, as if defeatedly breathing out. He was unaccustomed to going about without wings. Every once in awhile, he would flinch and stretch his arms out audaciously from his leaning position against the rail as if daring a greater being to let him fall and plummet to death once again. And every once in awhile, he would hold his hand out, meekly, shudderingly, as if just realizing his entire form was bathing in sunlight, the supposed physical manifestation of Him. 

The picture he made, caged behind glass, cold in his lofty world of sunlight and shadows, a solitary figure captured secretly, as if the window served as a lens into his privacy, his intimacy, told epic tales of times long forgotten and places far, far away. 

Usagi felt like crying.

…………………

He concentrated on breathing in and out. When had this simple action become so laborious? It's been ages since he's had to breathe more than a couple of times per hour, ages since he's been caught between heaven and hell, mesmerized by the strong beat of a human heart. 

There were scars on his back where wings had sprouted. He knew without having to look or feel. They were a haunting vestige of what he was not a day ago and every time he tried to flex his wings, the scars twinged. But he didn't wince. He had forgotten what it was like to wince.

He was surrounding him. He was present all around him, guarding these flimsy creatures He had made these creatures that had betrayed Him and murdered His Son in the most agonizing way known. And yet He forgave them. The fragile creatures continued on, immersed in their own little lives, like unaware ants. 

Hiiro clenched his fists. These useless creatures were not worthy of so great a benefactor. They did not deserve to be called creations of a being so powerful that with one wave of His hand, Satan and his angels were flung from sanctity.

The sun was gone. And those miserable creatures returned to their houses, another day passing without waging war, without hypocritical promises of peace, without famine, hatred, anger. He sighed heavily, the action vaguely familiar, and stood up, pulling the window screen open and entering the living room.

And there she was, one of those terrible creatures, tears dripping down smooth cheeks as her hair threw slate gray shadows on her face. Her eyes widened and she managed a watery smile, wiping her eyes quickly with a desultory sleeve. 

"Are you hungry, Hii…" He walked past her into the kitchen as her words died in her throat. He didn't hear her gasp as he stared fascinatingly at a small kitchen knife. His heart pounded loudly, its volume increasing, the sound of glorious life. He pressed the silver flash to his wrist and watched with curiosity. 

So this was pain to human beings. So this is what His Son had felt like as they carelessly sacrificed Him in the name of Satan. So this was-

"You idiot!" She slapped the knife out of his hand and it skittered across the kitchen tile, leaving spots of vermilion. His vacuous eyes rose to meet hers and he blinked. 

"What do you think you're doing?! You're not immortal anymore! You can die like that!" She looked close to tears again. 

"No…" he muttered to himself.

Usagi frowned. "What?"

"No, not immortal."

Her angry shoulders fell and her forehead smoothed as she stared at him bemusedly. 

"It was a state of death." He took a deep breath. "Of being chained and of having one's legs frozen in ice while one's arms strained and one's wings flexed fruitlessly."

Usagi shook her head and replaced her stunned expression with one of determination. "I don't care. You're alive now and we have to stop that bleeding."

"This," he lifted his arm up to his face, "is a gift from Him." He leaned in and pressed his lips against the wound. It faded into a scar and he let the hand drop, looking up and taking in her shocked expression. With lips stained scarlet, his skin looked even paler in comparison to those deep-set dark, dark blue eyes and hair of earthy shadows. 

Usagi stared.

The corners of his lips twitched. "Are you afraid of me?"

Molten sapphire narrowed into murderous slivers. "Of course not. I would never be afraid of a person who is so pathetic as to wallow in self-pity for his death. I-" She gasped and held still. With lightening quick movements, Hiiro had reclaimed the knife across the room and was holding it coolly against her throat, expression calm and serene. 

"Don't ever say that again."

Usagi's glare slowly melted away. "No matter what happened, Hiiro, there is always redemption. Accept what happened and come to terms with it, move on. Because a life that is governed by one's actions in the past … is not a life at all. [3]" 

He stared at her hands clasped around his, slowly guiding his hand, moving the knife away from her throat. 

"I'm sorry for whatever happened to you. I don't know whether or not you deserved to join Satan but … let go, Hiiro, and come away with your second chance – this second chance to breathe again." She smiled up at him and couldn't help but laugh a little when he jerked his hand from her grasp, turned abruptly, and headed upstairs.

…………………

She woke to the whispering sound of sheets moving against sheets and glanced around blearily. It was still dark and from her lying position on the floor, she glanced up at the bed and saw Hiiro tossing and turning. Frowning, she yawned and glanced at her Neko Purin-chan [4] alarm clock and sighed. Two hours had passed since she ceded her bed to Hiiro in an act of courtesy. Getting up, she reached over and gently touched his shoulder. She barely had time to pull back as his hand struck out like a cobra, clenching around her wrist. There was a brief flash of the moonlight's glare on dark, smoky blue irises as he turned to glare at her. 

"Are you okay?" she stuttered. He was breathing heavily and had turned away from her, pupils still dilated, hand still wrapped around her wrist. 

"I'm fine," he replied abruptly. His panting turned to reasonable breaths and the hold around her wrist loosened, his hand falling back to the bed. 

She bit her lip and hid her hand behind her back, unwilling to study the red imprints of fingers on her wrist. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." The word came out almost before she finished the question. 

Usagi sighed and lied back down on the floor, flinging the covers over her hand. "Whatever you want," she replied, voice muffled by the blanket.

…………………

There was immaculate silence at the breakfast table. Her mother had left to check up on a friend and her father had disappeared into the garage. It was a Friday, February the 13th, and snow had been drifting outside nonstop since around nine o'clock the previous night, leaving the streets frozen and barren with lopsided snowmen springing up in each neighborhood yard. 

Hiiro cleared his throat. She looked up.

"Are…" he hesitated – it was the first time she had ever seen him hesitate – "…are you okay?" He nodded at her left wrist resting limply on the table. Usagi cocked her head and glanced carelessly at the bruises in the outlines of his fingers, shrugging. 

"It doesn't matter."

He looked like he wanted to say more so she set her fork down and stared at him. "Spit it out," she ordered crankily. She had never been a morning person. Hiiro narrowed his eyes at her and looked ready to hiss but at the last moment, brushed the order off. 

"Is it painful?"

"This?" She held her wrist up and frowned. "Of course. But nothing I can't handle."

"Humans are resilient creatures." He seemed to be making a mental note of that before clearing his throat again. "It's been so long since I've experienced pain on such an … intimate level."

Usagi blinked. 

"Being in hell, of course, isn't pleasant. Over time, one learns to disassociate oneself from the pain … project a fictional self in a more pleasant environment while pushing the real self to the back of one's mind." He smiled, silently mocking himself. "I don't suppose that has a name in psychological terminology?"

"I wouldn't know," she replied shortly. The smile on his face was replaced by a small smirk, hardly a twitch of the corners of his mouth. 

"What I meant to say is that … if you want to, I can heal it for you." 

Usagi started and looked up at him, sapphire eyes wide and questioning. He stared back, face serious, his prominent bone structure creating smooth planes. Those clear, blue eyes, reminiscent of his history as an angel gazed at her unblinkingly, standing out against his still pallid skin. 

"Will you let me?" he whispered, thin lips moving so articulately that even an amateur like her could have read them. 

Shakily, she handed her wrist over and he took it with both hands, gently, almost reverently and studied the imprint he had left. Usagi stared. Something about him had changed. The image of his snarling at her was still fresh in her mind, but at this moment, there was a softer light in those amazing blue eyes, a light that spoke of pretty trinkets, of glorious wings, of golden dreams. 

He slowly brought her wrist to his lips as he had done with his own the previous night. There was absolute stillness for an endless moment and both of them did nothing but breathe, his warm breath brushing against her wrist, and hers increasing in pace as her heart sped up.

He glanced up at her, lips still pressed to the inside of her wrist and her heart froze. That look. That calm, tender, angelic look. 

Was not for her. Never for her. 

He was lost in some past memory, some faded person, imagining someone else in her place.

Usagi jerked her wrist back and stood up so quickly that the kitchen chair tipped over backwards. 

"Don't use me like that," she whispered harshly. There was still a trace of purple on her wrist as she held it to her chest. 

He frowned quizzically. 

Usagi shook her head and stormed out of the kitchen.

…………………

She was already sleeping by the time he entered the room. Flipping the lights off, he headed toward the bed.

"Will you tell me about her?" Her voice was small and childlike. He stopped and glanced at her, surprise registering in his usually blank expression. 

"Don't be so surprised. You know I'm right." Usagi sat up and smiled up at him. "So tell me about her."

Hiiro frowned. "I've never told anyone about her." He paused. "Except for Him. But I told Him …" he sought for a word, "…involuntarily."

Usagi looked shocked at his words. "How can you never tell anyone? You loved her, right? I'm sure you loved her. You loved her with all of your heart. Didn't you feel like singing it to the world? Love is like that." She glanced down at her hands. "Like now. I want to shout to all of Tokyo that I'm in love."

Hiiro glanced aside and tried to curb the strange, rearing tendrils of envy. He had become dexterous at turning black feeling away – anger, hatred, jealousy. Ever since the falling, his head had been filled with nothing other than devious thoughts, dark thoughts, horrible fantasies splattered with blood that reeked of death. 

"Who?" he asked casually.

Usagi grinned at him and pressed her lips against her left wrist where the purple had faded to lavender. "You."

He shifted uncomfortably and scowled at her. "When you were a child … did you ever meet a strange, blonde, young boy?"

Her brow furrowed curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering."

"Well, to be truthful, yes."

His eyes flashed up to meet hers, indiscernible. 

"I was trying to save a kitten from a lake I used to live near but I accidentally fell in and I couldn't swim." She paused to laugh sheepishly. "And just when I felt myself sinking, somebody grasped my hand and pulled me up out of the water. At first I thought he was an angel with the sun shining behind his head, creating a halo of gold but he spoke to me. And smile at me. Led me home by the hand, chatting so cheerfully, smiling and laughing." Usagi closed her eyes and smiled to herself. "I think he was my first love," she giggled embarrassedly. 

Hiiro didn't look amused. "What was his name?"

"Quatre."

"Michael."

Usagi eyed him questioningly. 

"You were touched by Michael. I should have known."

"Michael…? Oh! The person I reminded you of?"

He was silent for awhile. "Michael. The archangel Michael that is the greatest of the seven archangels. Those that he touch tend to develop certain characteristics of his and those that he touch are given a gift worthy of a seraphim."

"Gift?"

"Yes. You are given the love of everybody you meet." He sighed to himself and stated, in a softer tone, "She was also touched by Michael."

"She," Usagi repeated. 

"She," he echoed defeatedly, signifying the end of the conversation.

…………………

"Hiiro, Hiiro! Wake up! It's still snowing! It's snowing on Valentine's Day!" Her giddy laughter followed soon after before he felt hands not-so-gently shaking him. Cracking one eye open, he grabbed hold of her wrists and pushed her away, sitting up. Usagi just laughed. 

But her laughter died as she saw Hiiro's serious expression as he stared out the window. 

"What?"

"It's the third day," he replied in a faraway voice. "It's the day of rebirth [5]."

Her expression sobered. "What does that have to do with anything?"

He turned back to her and eyed her with gravity. "I didn't forget what you said last night. About love. I admit without shame that I can't help but fall in love with you but that is nothing more than an effect of Michael's gift." He smiled derisively to himself. "I know that and I still can't help it. Michael … thou art mighty yet [6]." 

"No, it's okay. I understand completely. You still love her." She was turned away from him, gazing out at the snow. 

"She's been dead for over twenty milleniums. Even Michael's gift can't hold for that long."

Usagi glanced over her shoulder at him but he wasn't looking at her. Sighing, she turned back to him and sat on the floor beside the bed. 

"Hiiro. Tell me why you went to hell."

His eyes hardened as he looked at her. "Haven't you ever heard the tale of Satan's fall? I betrayed Him. I supported Satan." 

"That's not the only reason, is it?" Her voice was heartbreakingly soft.

He didn't say anything for awhile. "I went to hell because of Michael. Because of-"

"Love," she finished and smiled up at his vaguely startled expression. "I thought so."

"Yes. Because of the girl who was touched by Michael. He had saved her right before she was about to freeze in the snow. Her name was Relena."

"Relena," she repeated. The word tasted of splendid beauty, magnificent tranquility. 

"She looked similar to you." Hiiro frowned to himself. "To Michael," he amended after a pause. 

"And she was the reason you went with Satan?"

"There is a fine line between love and lust that is infinitely easy to cross. An angel must never cross it. He deemed it so." He hesitated and looked ready to seal away his cold heart and scold his seditious tongue. 

"He made it so that no angel is allowed to fall in love. Period. Not that kind of love, at least. We understood familial love, divine love, platonic love. We were pure. But we were fake." His lips pulled back slightly and he looked ready to bear his teeth. "We were nothing more than empty porcelain dolls."

"But you fell in love with Relena."

His eyelids lowered until his eyes were almost closed. "And for that, I paid a grievous price."

"So you won't love ever again. You won't…"

"I don't think it's good for me to stay here."

She couldn't meet his eyes. "I don't care. You're an angel."

"No. I haven't been an angel for more than a dozen milleniums. I'm a demon, Usagi. I'm evil. I am filled with hatred and void of love."

Usagi started. It was the first time he had said her name outright. She shook her head vehemently. "No, Hiiro, you're not a demon. Would a demon be talking so heart-brokenly about his lost love? Would a demon have looked so tenderly at an illusion of Relena?" She grasped his hand in hers and smiled when he started. 

"And would a demon have a heart beating so strongly, so purely, with so much desire to live?" She slowly guided his hand to his chest. 

"You're not a demon, Hiiro, and for that I love you. You don't realize that and for that, I chastise you."

She waited in silence before, finally, he looked up at her and smirked. "It is the day of rebirth. His Son joined him on the third day. It is the day of…" he took a deep breath, "…of redemption." 

His hand was still at his heart. "I might never feel this again," he sighed, glowering at the floor. "I might never taste sweet air again," he took another deep breath and let his hand fall, tracing the scar left from his cutting his wrist. "I might never feel such vivid pain again." 

He frowned to himself. "But I might never love again." 

He reached over from his sitting position on the floor and tipped her face up, lowering his face to hers before pausing. There was consummate silence as they sat, breathing, hearts beating, experiencing the feel, smell, taste of love. 

He pressed his lips to hers, warmly, tenderly. And she saw it. Images of scarlet blood, of silver violence, of black hate flashed past her eyes but along with it…

Along with it was rose-colored love, white peace, cerulean joy. 

He fell back onto the floor and didn't get up. 

"You're going to die," she whispered. It was a statement. He didn't say anything as the outline of wings was traced into the beige carpet as if by an invisible artist. The thunder of his heart in his head was slowing, stopping and the warm sanctity of blood was leaving. 

But she was staring so lovingly down at him, smiling through chaste tears, loving him despite veils of midnight hate.

__

He might not understand yet that love made a person, angel or not, whole but Hiiro was sure … certain … that sooner or later, He will understand. But until then … there was the young girl gazing with that forbidden emotion at him … and hope.

The snow continued falling outside on the third day, redeeming the world with flakes of crystal white. The sky looked more and more blue, more and more tender by the moment. And as he faded away, words sprung up like daffodils, carving themselves in history. 

"For it is the intrigue of love that drives us forever forward, giving us our reason for being. Love gives us life, and for the blessed few, life gives them love [7]." 

…………………

I'm sorry I'm so late!!! ;-; ;-; ;-; Is the V-day mood gone? xD I knew there was no possible way for me to finish on V-day when I feel asleep in front of the computer around 9:00 the night before. xD And I was entertaining the thought of pushing it back to White Day [something I learned from Fruits Basket – V-day is when girls give guys presents while White Day, 3/14, is when guys give girls presents xD] but I was particularly happy today … so I sat down and wrote. And wrote. And wrote. And wrote. xDxD About 7 or so pages. xD Size ten font! Bad for the eyes! And it's around one right now … which means I should sleep. xD Sorry for the delay! Happy belated V-day!!! :DDD Yours, Angel. 

****

Notes: 

1. "Merde" – From this book I read somewhere … xD It had to do with vampires … xDxD. In actuality, I don't even know if it's accurate – my knowledge of French is impossibly close to nil. xD

2. "Sariel" – Is actually a fallen angel. xD Other than that … I know very little about him. Just a name I thought seemed fitting. xDxD

3. "Live governed by past actions … is not life at all" – lol … I was trying to hint at Usagi's own life – living by past actions of Princess Serenity, etc. xD Cheesy, no? :D

4. "Neko Purin-chan" – a dedication to friend. :D

5. "Third day … day of redemption" – for those of you unfamiliar with this … third day = Easter Sunday = Jesus rising to heaven. xD 

6. "Michael … thou art mighty yet." – a line from Julius Caesar that I particularly liked – Brutus' apostrophe to the dead Caesar in reference to Caesar's ghost. :D It has a nice ring to it, ne? :DDD

7. The quote was said by … anonymous. xD 

8. For those of you offended that I seemed to have made God the bad guy here .. [touchy issues of religion … --;] I really intended no such thing. It just seemed like a pleasantly angsty idea at the time. xD To die for love. :D Literally. 


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